When Given A Choice
by L1997
Summary: Post Season 13 predictive story/my hopes for Season 14. Dean was given a choice and he chose to sacrifice himself for the ones he loved. Now, after defeating Lucifer and Michael taking over, Sam, Cas, and Jack are left to pick up the pieces and try everything they can to get Dean back. But, Dean still has some touch choices ahead of him. Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! So, I had been looking through and I wasn't able to find barely any post season 13 fics so to satisfy myself, I just decided to write it myself! I hope you enjoy! This story will focus a lot on choices and either next chapter or the one after that, you'll see where Dean still has some tough choices to make. Stay tuned.**

 **CHAPTER ONE**

Castiel had failed.

He found himself going over the day's events over and over again in his head.

 _Dean was gone._

That thought repeated itself in his head until it became a weight, crushing down on him, squeezing his insides together. The weight just kept getting heavier, and heavier, and _heavier_ , until it felt like he couldn't breathe _._

His chest was tight, his breaths coming fast and short as the realization that the space in front of him where Dean had just been standing, _seconds_ ago, was now empty.

Dean barely considered it. He didn't even _consider_ who he was leaving behind. A brother, a friend, a l-

It was an hour later when Jack and Sam found him sitting on the Bunker's library steps, a look of clear devastation on his face. Dean wasn't with them, which only met one of two things.

Either, A) Lucifer killed Dean/Michael and disappeared, off into the wind once again to wreak havoc on the Earth.

Or B), Michael went back on his deal after killing Lucifer and has taken over Dean's body.

It only took one look at Sam and Jack to know which one it was.

Dean had been a fool to think Michael wouldn't go back on their deal. Castiel has considered that possibility the moment he realized what Dean was going to do. The thing was, Cas didn't think Dean even thought about it. He either thought Michael was a more honorable angel then he had seemed, or he knew he was going to betray him and still went through with it anyway.

He was a fool to make that deal. He was a fool to sacrifice himself with so little thought. He was a fool to leave them, _him,_ behind.

 _He was a damn fool,_ He thought bitterly, shaking his head.

"Cas," Sam started slowly, the hopelessness evident in his voice as he slowly lowered himself on the step next to his best friend. "Dean- he killed Lucifer and then-" He paused, swallowing hard. "What happened? How- how did Michael trick Dean into saying yes?"

Cas snorted humorlessly. "Dean was the one to make the offer. He didn't even refer to himself as a person. 'Michael's Sword'. He offered himself up like a piece of meat, as a vessel." Castiel's eyes dropped to the floor as he rubbed them with his thumb and forefinger, "He said he had no choice."

But he did. Cas knew it. Sam, Jack, everyone else would know he had a choice. He just picked the martyr one.

"You couldn't stop him?" Sam asked, a harshness underlying his tone. He would regret the accusatory tone later, he knew when it came to Dean, when his family was in danger, he had tunnel vision. There's no room to argue with a Determined Dean. But right now, Sam couldn't see that logic. So, he turned probing eyes to the hurting angel.

"Sam-" Jack began, only to be stopped when Cas gave him a silencing look.

Cas took a deep breath. "I tried, Sam," He stated, noticing the look of doubt that lingered on his face. "I tried." He insisted, the emotion behind his words enough to make Sam back down.

 _"Cas, I don't have a choice!"_

 _Cas stared, eyes hard and brows drawn as Dean turned back to Michael. "If we do this, it's a one-time deal. I'm in charge. You're the engine, but I'm behind the wheel."_

 _"Dean."_

 _He turned around, the angel's demanding tone reminding him of when he first met him almost a decade ago in that barn: powerful, intense, commanding._

 _Dean hesitated before grabbing Cas by the arm and hauling him out into the hallway, away from Michael's giddy expression. "Don't try to talk me out of it. I've made up my mind." He said, fast and stern, leaving no room to argue. Except, Cas didn't care._

 _"No," He started, shaking his head. "I did not rebel just for you to make it all for nothing."_

 _Dean's features softened into shock, then realization. "Cas I-" He stopped, his mouth growing dry. "You did the right thing back then. Saying yes to Michael? Hell yeah it was a stupid idea. But now?" He licked his lips, collecting his thoughts. "Now, Sammy and Jack are in danger. You expect me to just sit back and relax? Let Lucifer kill them?"_

 _"We can leave right now. We can stop Lucifer before-"_

 _"Before what, Cas? Because we sure as hell won't get there in time in the Impala. We don't even know where they are! Maybe if you had your wings, maybe we could stop him in time. But you don't." Dean barked, his need to protect his family coming across as maliciousness._

 _Castiel straightened his back. "You and I both know Michael won't keep his word." He tried to reason, taking a step closer and putting a hand on Dean's shoulder. "He will take you over. You expect me to just sit back and relax and let that happen?" He asked, throwing Dean's own words in his face._

 _"Michael made me a deal. I'm doing It, Cas. I don't need your permission." He spat harshly, shoving Castiel's hand away, misplaced anger being directed at the angel._

 _So, Cas stood there in the hallway and listened as the long-dreaded word of 'yes' was spoken by the righteous man. It took only a few seconds before Cas ran out only to see Michael's old vessel slumped on the ground and Dean looking at him with a new-found strength and hope._

 _"Dean, wait-" He begged, reaching his hand out towards him, wanting the chance to say one last thing before Dean was potentially lost to him forever._

 _But he didn't wait._

Sam swallowed. The immediate guilt that overtook him was enough for him to realize he needed to steer the conversation in a different direction. "We'll get him back, Cas. Hell, we got Lucifer out of the President. We can save Dean." He encouraged, noting how the angel's disheartened look didn't change.

"I know I don't have my powers. And I know Michael is powerful. But we've got Bobby and everyone else." Jack offered, smiling hopefully at Castiel who only gave a meager smile in return. "Where do we begin?"

Sam sighed, standing up. "First, I think we need to tell the others, Mom, Bobby. Every one that is staying in the bunker. We're gonna need their help." He instructed, pulling out this cell phone. "I'll put out an APB to every hunter I know. We don't want another situation like when he was a demon and nobody knew. That way, everyone will stay away if they see him and hopefully, nobody'll get killed."

Jack nodded before leaving, on his way to find Mary and Bobby.

"Cas?" Sam asked, his voice cautious as the angel slowly looked up at him. "We _will_ get him back."

Castiel nodded and stood up, clapping Sam on the shoulder. He lingered for a moment before he left, leaving Sam behind in the empty library.

He made his way down the hallway blindly, not even having a particular destination in mind until he was there.

Dean's room looked pretty much the same all the time; empty beer bottles sporadically around, empty pie containers, and his massive collection of weapons. Cas wasn't sure why his legs took him here but now that he was there, his knees felt wobbly.

How was he supposed to have faith? It took them months, _months_ , to finally track down Lucifer and eventually get him out of the vessel he had highjacked. The amount of carnage that Michael could cause using Dean's hands was enough to make Castiel almost dread rescuing Dean.

Because it wouldn't be Dean, not really. Michael was not going to give mercy to their Earth and Dean will live the rest of his life blaming himself for it.

But, Castiel couldn't just give up. If the roles were reversed, which they had been, Dean wouldn't have given up for a second.

So, with his back straight and his shoulders back, Cas marched out of Dean's room, banishing all the bad thoughts from his mind as he shut the door behind him.

They would rescue Dean. He just hoped it'd be sooner rather than later.

…..

 **TBC**

If you read this far, great! Welcome to what will be a multi-chapter fic. I'm just going to ride out what I'd like to see happen in season 14 because it's hiatus and why not? There will be some dark themes, death, brotherly hurt, and grief. You'll be in for a ride, that's for sure. Please leave a review. That way, I'll know if I should continue or not. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Just a preface, any words in bold italics are Dean's thoughts. For the purpose of my story, Michael can hear Dean's thoughts and vice versa.**

 **CHAPTER TWO**

Michael was thrilled. Hell, he was friggin' ecstatic. He had gotten everything he wanted. Lucifer, for the second time, was dead and everyone knows you can never have too much of a good thing.

On top of that, the ever-taunting fact that he couldn't manage to travel to this new, untouched, pure world, was now behind him.

He was here.

Dean Winchester was surprisingly quiet after Michael took control. There was a brief moment of curse words and threats but then, there was silence and a feeling of renounced surrender.

A heart-breaking, defeated silence that echoed through his bones.

But, Michael did what he had to do. He had this vessel, _his sword_ , and there was no one left to stop him.

Not even Sam Winchester.

In all honesty, Sam Winchester was like a nat in the back of his head, constantly buzzing and reminding him that he will see the man again and that he will do whatever it takes to free his brother from Michael's grasp.

 _Let him try,_ Michael thought smugly before he blinked.

His first stop was to get out of the whiskey, sweat, and self-loathing soaked flannel he was wearing. He knew if he was going to accomplish what he needed to, no one would take him seriously in his current clothes. He changed into something more fitting for this world's New God.

Michael walked out of the department store wearing a suit and tie, a long gray coat, and an ascot cap. Sure, he didn't have any money to purchase the clothes, but the now dead store cashier wasn't going to say anything about it.

Truth be told, Michael wasn't exactly sure where to start. He knew he had messed up on his Earth. He had crossed the line to where instead of just pledging their loyalty out of fear, he went to far and made those pathetic humans rebel against him. He didn't want the entire population fighting him.

He wouldn't make that mistake again.

No, he had to find a balance. He needed them to fear him completely without giving them a sliver of hope that they could overrule him. Sure, there'd be some hunters that would try to stop him but, he planned to keep the general public frozen in fear or in complete adoration of him.

But where to start?

Michael took in his surroundings, heading down the street with his hands in his pockets as he breathed in deeply. He relished the smell of the crisp autumn air, void of rotting corpses and gravel. He had to admit, he knew nothing about this Earth. He was so used to death and destruction that even the sight of a full grown, fall-colored tree was disorienting. The sound of people laughing, the act of walking a dog down the sidewalk, the rumble of a car's engine. These were all things Michael had almost forgotten about. The one good thing though, was that he had Dean's memories to give him some information.

They were hard to shift through. Dean Winchester had lived a busy life to say the least. Most of his memories were clouded with guilt, loss, and dread. Images of Castiel, Sam, and others overwhelmed his mind that Michael could swear, there were more with them then without.

Michael figured the first thing he had to do was get the word out, let everyone know he was here. He needed the humans to start talking. He also knew he needed to get as far from the bunker and Sam Winchester as soon as possible.

Now, what was the best way to let everyone know he was here?

Michael's eyes roamed the street. He hadn't even noticed he had meandered outside of the city limits to a quieter part of town. He was just starting to think he needed to turn around when his eyes caught sight of a sign.

 _"Hope United Methodist Church."_

Michael hated to say it, but damn, what would be a better place to come out at then a church?

….

"Castiel, what can I do?"

Cas looked up. He hadn't even realized he had zoned out and was just staring at the book-filled walls of the bunker's library until Jack's voice penetrated his thoughts. "What do you mean?" He asked, straightening in the chair he had been slouched in.

Jack took a seat next to Cas, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. "Well, Sam is letting everyone know what happened. And you are…" He trailed off, his brows tightening before continuing. "I just feel like I should be doing something. Anything. I can go out and look for Dean myself."

Cas's eyes widened. "Absolutely not. Jack, Michael is too dangerous and without your powers-"

"I'm useless." Jack finished for him, standing up as his face twisted in self-hatred. "I should never have trusted Lucifer. I'm so _stupid!"_ He scolded himself, his fists clenching as he paced the library. He already failed at stopping his father. Now, because of his blind devotion to someone who hadn't proved to earn the title of his father, Dean was in trouble. " _We're gonna make mistakes. Nobody's perfect. Right? But we can get better,"_ Dean's words echoed in Jack's mind as Castiel stood.

Cas approached him, realizing his mistake. "Jack, that is not what I was going to say. You relied on your powers before. Trust me, I know what it's like to feel useless." Jack watched as Castiel's eyes glazed over for a moment, a distant memory replaying itself before he shook his head, banishing the thought. "Let's go talk to Sam, maybe he will have a plan."

Jack nodded hesitantly, wanting nothing more than to believe what Castiel was saying.

…..

Mary's heart _broke._

No. This wasn't possible. There's no way, _no way_ ¸ Dean let Michael possess him. Why would he do that? That doesn't make sense.

Mary didn't even know she had been speaking out loud until Sam put his hands on her shoulders. "Mom."

She stopped, mouth clamping shut, eyes brimming with tears. "What happened?"

So, Sam told her. He told her what Castiel had told him, he recounted what happened at the church, and what happened after. With each passing word, he saw more and more devastation slowly creep into Mary's features. "Now, I'm just trying to let everyone know what's going on. I don't want anyone to come across Michael and think it's Dean. The less blood that ends up on Dean's hands the better. I know from experience, even if you aren't the one in control, the memories will haunt you forever." He said with certainty, Kevin Tran's scorched eye sockets flashing across his vision.

"That's what we have to hope for." Mary said quietly, taking a deep breath as the worried mother drifted away to be replaced by the hardened hunter. "Let's just hope Michael will be more merciful over here then he was over on his Earth."

…..

Michael threw open the doors. The church was small, quaint, with only a small gathering area and then the chapel. He ascended the stairs, stripping of his jacket before walking over to the line of coat racks.

He didn't even want to know what the odds were that the church was actually in session, he was just thankful he was lucky enough that it was.

"Good morning, we're glad to have you here. You're new?"

Michael glanced at the person currently trying to hand him a program. "You could say that." He answered, taking the yellow paper.

"Well, I hope you become inspired." The older woman stated as she gave him a warm smile, adjusting her bright yellow cardigan she was wearing over a blue-polka-dotted dress.

He smiled. "That makes two of us." He stated, knowing full well that this woman was _not_ going to be glad he came.

He walked in and grabbed a seat towards the back, figuring he might as well see what kind of belief these people were peddling before he jumped in. After about an hour, the service ended.

Before anyone got a chance to leave, Michael waved his hand towards the exit, the wooden doors slamming shut with enough force to crack the wood surrounding it. Panicked gasps came from the few people standing close enough to see the mysterious act.

Michael walked down the middle aisle, his left hand grazing the rows of pews that he walked past.

He heard exclamations coming from behind him as scorch marks were left behind from his fingertips.

"Who are you?" The woman from earlier spoke softly from her position closet to the pulpit, clutching a wooden cross in her shaking hands.

Michael turned around to face the awe-struck congregation. "I'm the Archangel, Michael."

Gasps of wonder and shock echoed across the room before someone stood up, a man in his early thirties, his wife clutching his arm in warning. "Why should we believe you?" He asked. "You just expect us to-"

Any other retort the man had was cut off by his neck snapping, his head turning a complete 180 degrees.

What was before wonder now changed to terror as people bolted for the doors. The man's wife screamed, falling to the ground to stroke his cheek as tears fell down her face.

"Any one else?" Michael asked, his voice booming, the sound reverberating off the walls as lightening crackled in the air.

The woman with the polka-dotted dress cleared her throat, causing the Archangel to turn to see her kneeling before him, the cross still firmly clutched in her quivering hands. The rest of the congregation followed suit, soft cries of fear a simple background noise to Michael.

"I am here to save you all," he began, moving to walk down the aisle. As he walked, people cowered away from his boots, trying to get as far away from the angel before them as possible. "Your Earth, it's so _untouched._ I plan to fix that. But before I can do that, I have to get everyone on the same page and the best way to do that…"

He paused before stopping next to a man, body shaking in fear as he kept his forehead pressed to the ground. Michael smirked, took a step forward, and _stomped._

The man's skull shattering cut off any and all noise in the small church as the congregation froze. "Unfortunately, I have to kill all of you. It's the only way to let people know I mean business."

 ** _Michael_** _._

The Archangel's brows shot up in delighted surprise as Dean Winchester's growled warning interrupted him. _He speaks! What can I do for you, Dean?,_ he thought, knowing full well Dean could hear his thoughts just like he could hear his.

 ** _You don't need to kill these people._**

Michael scoffed to himself as he approached a couple pressed against the wall before his palms found their foreheads.

 ** _Michael! Stop!_**

He didn't care. Let Dean Winchester yell at him. He had expected some sort of communication earlier seeming as though Michael made a point to make sure Dean would watch _everything_ he planned on doing. Since he couldn't physically kill him, he figured he might as well kill his spirit.

So, Michael continued. Some people tried to run away, others attempted to fight back, while others just waited, tears falling freely down their cheeks, mouths moving while silent prayers flowed from their lips as the archangel made his way through every last person.

That is, except two.

Dean Winchester had gone silent once more. When Michael got to the last two people left in the church, a thought came to him. How is anyone supposed to know that he was the one behind this act? There was only one option.

"I'm going to let one of you live." He declared, his eyes shifting between an African American woman in her mid-twenties to an older Caucasian gentleman with hair beginning to turn gray on the sides. _And I'm going to let you pick which one lives,_ he thought, a cruel smile spreading across his face.

 ** _No, neither._**

Michael rolled his eyes at Dean's stubbornness. _I'm going to make this really simple,_ he explained as the two people exchanged shocked expressions, _You either pick one, or I kill them both._

He was meant with defiant silence, figuring Michael was bluffing.

Much to Dean's dismay, he wasn't.

When the sounds of screaming and bones cracking finally stopped, Michael wiped his hands clear of blood off on the man's dress shirt. _You know, you could've prevented one person's death here, Dean. I think we'll just have to play that little game again._

Michael smirked with pride when he felt Dean's utter despair flow through him.

Although it hadn't been his plan to kill everyone, Michael figured there'd be more churches, more people to slaughter, and more chances to torture Dean Winchester.

The Archangel walked out of the room, the door swinging and snagging on a blue polka-dotted dress.

…

 **TBC**

 **Thanks to everyone for reading, favoriting, following and reviewing. I wasn't anticipating much of a response to the first chapter. I hope you all continue to review, it's what motivates me to try to update sooner. So, feel free to yell at me in the reviews. This chapter just gave a small preview of the decisions Dean is going to have to make. Thanks for reading.**


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

It was pouring down rain on a Tuesday, 12 days after they lost Dean, that they finally heard something concrete.

It had been 12 days of rumors, assumptions, and murmurs. Church killings were being reported all over the news that they were sure were Michael but had nothing to prove it. The body count had risen to 83, and that was just who they knew about.

The police didn't know what they were dealing with. They decided to nickname the killer the Servant Slayer.

Sam, Cas, and Jack knew better than the police. They knew it wasn't just some random psycho with an agenda and they all assumed the killings were because of Michael.

But, everyone knows what happens when you assume things, and with this much blood flowing, they didn't want to even consider the possibility that it could be because of Dean's hands.

It was maddening for all three of them not to know anything for sure. Dean could be dead, his body just a free vessel for Michael. They just _didn't know._ Mary and Bobby tried their best to help. They sent out teams to try and track movements, had them go check out crime scenes, and set up a base here in the bunker. But, nothing helped. They had nothing to show for all their hard work. They had no proof and were all running on fumes.

That is, until today, when there was a survivor of one of the attacks. Just the fact that there was a survivor was weird enough since after almost two weeks, there hadn't been a single one.

"Now, Ms. McHugh, can you tell me exactly what you saw?"

The twenty-four-year-old girl sat at her kitchen island, wringing her hands together as she stared at the granite countertop.

Sam leaned forward and placed a comforting hand on her arm. "Take your time, Taylor." He made sure to keep his tone calm and at ease, doing his damnedest to hide his impatience.

Taylor tucked a strand of shoulder-length, straight brown hair behind her ear. Sam cringed by the way her hand shook. _Michael did this,_ he thought angrily, taking in the girl's injuries. After two days in the hospital, the girl still looked pretty rough. Her left leg was in a cast from above the knee all the way down to encase her ankle. The jacket and 9 Inch Nails t-shirt she was wearing covered the multiple bruises and bandages from her two broken ribs that Sam had read in the report that the lead detective had given him. Her right eye was still swollen, her nose was broken, and she had stiches above her eyebrow from a pretty nasty cut.

"It was just a book club." She whispered, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry?"

Taylor took a deep breath. "I don't even go to that church, I'm not even religious, I was just there that night for a damn book club." She said bitterly, meeting Sam's questioning gaze. "We were in the middle of discussing the ending when this- this guy just walks in and starts spouting a bunch of crap about needing to save us. None of us knew what he was talking about." She took a deep breath, her voice shaking, as she wiped a stray tear that stubbornly fell. "He talked about needing to cleanse this Earth like he did his and then-" She paused.

"Taylor?" Sam began, moving slowly to sit on a bar stool opposite her. "It's okay. You can tell me."

"He killed Karen, the woman who runs-" Another pause. " _ran_ the book club and then he just kept… going." Her eyes glazed over, his mind clearly somewhere else. "His hands they- they somehow burned Greg and Zach's eyes out. What can do that?"

Sam was taken aback by the question. Not so much that she asked it, but that she specifically said 'what' instead of 'who'. "We aren't sure who he is-"

"You can't tell me that- that _thing_ was human." She insisted, scrutinizing him.

"Why did he keep you alive?" Sam asked, brows scrunching as he quickly changed the subject. This girl already had a huge trauma, no need to add on ' _this was an archangel possessing my brother and oh yeah there's angels and demons and vampires and every other nightmare you can think of roaming the earth.'_

Taylor scoffed. "He wasn't going to. He all of a sudden stopped when there was just me and this guy Kevin left, stared at us and then he charged at me. He was in the middle of doing this," she gestured to her injuries, swallowing, "when he just stopped. He got this self-satisfied smirk on his face, killed Kevin, and then left."

"That's it?" Sam asked, not entirely believing her. "He didn't say anything else to you? What did he look like?"

"I think I heard him mutter something under his breath." She offered, shrugging. "I'm not entirely sure I heard it right though."

Sam leaned forward eagerly. "Taylor, please. Anything can help us catch this guy."

Taylor nodded. "He said- it doesn't even make any sense but I'm pretty sure he said, "I'm glad you finally decided to play, Dean." There was no one else around though."

The color drained from Sam's face, a look of dread on his features before he forced a smile. "Thank you, really, you've been a big help. Just, one last thing." He quickly pulled out his cell phone before tapping it a few times and turning it towards the girl. "Was this him?" He asked begrudgingly, not really wanting to hear the answer he had already known for the past 12 days.

Taylor looked at the picture of Dean before her mouth fell open, forcing her eyes away. "Yes. That's him. I'm positive. Who is he?"

Sam stood, grabbing his wallet from his suit jacket and pulling out a card. "Call me if you see him again or if you need anything else." He insisted before leaving the card on the counter and bolting out the front door.

….

"Dammit." Castiel growled, tapping the 'end call' button on his cell phone much harder than necessary.

Jack looked over, his head tilting slightly. "What's wrong?"

"That was Sam." He began, standing up from the motel bed and walking over to their duffel bags. "He just spoke with the survivor. She confirmed it was Michael."

Jack's brows drew together in concentration. "So, we know Dean's alive. That's good, right?"

Cas couldn't help the exasperated sigh that escaped his lips. "Michael could've easily killed Dean but kept the vessel. This only confirms that Michael is doing the same thing to our Earth that he did to his."

Jack cast his eyes down, ashamed at his own ignorance before he stood from the table where he had been reading Dean's hunting journal. He had wanted to learn as much about the supernatural as possible. When he asked Dean for a book to read to learn all he could about monsters, he had handed him his very own journal. _Don't lose it,_ he had warned, but Jack could remember the smile on his face. "What do we do now?"

Castiel zipped up their duffels before handing one to Jack to carry, who quickly shoved the journal inside. "Sam is two minutes away. Once he gets here, we're going to try to follow Michael."

"Did Sam figure out a pattern? How are we going to know where he'll show up next?" Jack asked, heading out the door after Castiel to wait outside.

Cas shook his head. "Not exactly, he might've found a tracking spell."

"That's great!" Jack said enthusiastically, earning a less than optimistic look from Cas.

Just then, the familiar roar of the Impala came within hearing distance.

…..

"Dean, you better hurry and pick one. I'm growing tired of this one-sided game."

Michael wasn't surprised by the stony silence that followed. For the past twelve days, every time Michael offered Dean a choice on who to save, he'd say both.

And every time, Michael would kill both of them.

But this time, _this time_ , Dean did say something. Of course, it was after he already started beating on the woman that Dean finally gave his answer, fast and regretful.

 ** _"The girl, the girl save the girl."_**

Michael smirked, clearly proud of himself as he let the young woman fall harshly to the ground before turning around and shoving his hand through the guys chest.

Shaking his hand free of blood as the girl screamed in horror behind him, Michael spoke. "I'm glad you finally decided to play, Dean." He slowly meandered out of the church's basement before snapping his fingers, already in a different town, in a motel room to gather himself.

Defeated quiet followed before he finally spoke. **_"My brother will find us and when he does-"_**

"I'll kill him just like I've killed all those other people." Michael interrupted, able to _feel_ the scowl behind Dean's next words.

 ** _"And when he does,"_** He repeated more insistently, spitting every word. **_"He'll roast your head on a pike. I promise you that."_**

The archangel tried to ignore the shiver that ran down his spine at the coldness behind Dean Winchester's threat.

"We'll see about that."

…

"You should feel honored that I derailed my road trip to help you lot."

Sam smirked almost fondly at Rowena's fake annoyance. He knew as soon as he told her that she was not as okay with Dean being possessed as her act portrayed. "Did you find a spell?"

Rowena huffed before pulling out a piece of parchment paper, worn and discolored with age, and setting it on the table between them. Sam picked it up eagerly, his eyes scanning over the text. He had only ever seen this type of script once before when Bart had given them half that spell to track Jack.

Rowena promptly plucked it from his hands, holding it close to her out of his reach. "Do you have my end of the bargain?" Sam swallowed before his eyes darted back and forth between the spell and Rowena, calculating.

"I'll put you down before you can even think twice about it." She warned, one brow rising, daring Sam to try something.

"Rowena, can't you ever just do us a favor, no strings attached?" He asked. _It'll be worth it, it's the only way to help Dean,_ he thought although he knew, Dean would be _pissed_ when he found out what he promised.

"I may be turnin' over a new leaf, but I'm still a business woman." She reminded, her lips curling at the edges into a smirk. "Come on, Samuel. I'll be good, witches honor."

Sam sighed as he reached down to pick his bag off the floor.

Rowena watched with childish glee as Sam set the Black Grimoire down on the table.

…..

 **TBC**

 **Thanks for reading, favoriting, following, and reviewing! Let me know what you thought of Sam's choice and about how Dean's situation is developing. I enjoy reading your thoughts and, believe it or not, it makes me sit down and write. I hope every one had a great Fourth of July that celebrates it!**


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Dean had become pretty predictable with his answers.

When given the choice between two people he always picked either the woman or whoever was the youngest. In retrospect, it was a good plan.

But, Michael didn't want to make it easy for him.

Since Dean had regrettably made that first decision, Michael had made it his mission to up his game. In the past two days since he had opted to save that girl, they had visited five chapels, killing everyone inside but one. In his spare time, Michael scouted out his next target or tried to familiarize himself with Dean's world.

It was hard for Dean to bear. He was a hunter for god's sake! He was no stranger to people dying but when it was his hands doing it? His words initiating the butchering of whatever poor son of a bitch was under Michael's boot? It was _suffocating._ Each life he felt Michael, _himself,_ take, was just another added weight to his shoulders. He remembered all their faces, their screams echoing in his ears and he will always feel their blood on his hands.

Just like the souls he tortured in Hell 10 years ago.

Dean still had nightmares from Hell. They were fewer and far between, but they definitely still frequented his list of nightmares. He knew when he ever got out of this mess, he would have a new set of nightmares to look forward to.

 _If_ he ever got out of this mess.

"Come on, Dean. Just pick one!" Michael encouraged, the echoing silence in his head a big enough hint to let him know he wasn't going to be hearing an answer anytime soon.

He stood in front of two African-American girls, both no older than sixteen. All around him were bodies of people in varying genders and ages, but he specifically left these two for last.

Dean hated picking. It went against every fiber of his being. As a hunter, as an older brother, and as a best friend. All those parts of his personality were screaming at him to not give in to Michael. _Saving people,_ he thought to himself. That was the first tag line of the family business. Now? He was the one who was killing all these people. If he hadn't stupidly let Michael in without some sort of back up plan, none of this would be happening.

 _And Sammy and Jack would be dead with Lucifer roaming free._ That thought stubbornly reminded him why he had done it. Why he had let Michael in; for his own selfish reasons. Now, every day he was forced to watch as _his hands_ slaughtered people one by one. At least this way, he was able to save one out of however many people.

 ** _You're sick._**

Michael rolled his eyes as one of the girls started crying. "I'm losing patience."

 ** _They're just kids!_** He growled, desperation coming out as anger. Dean didn't want to pick. He couldn't, _wouldn't,_ pick between two teenage girls who hadn't even lived their lives yet.

"If you don't pick one, I'll kill them both-" Michael's words got cut off by both girls starting to cry for help. With a flick of his hands, the two girls went flying up against the wall. "Is that what you want, Dean? For two lives to be needlessly lost instead of just one?"

 ** _You sonofabitch._**

Michael just smirked. "I'll give you to the count of ten to pick one before I make both of them eat their own intestines." He paused, seeing if that would get Dean to answer. When it didn't, "10… 9…"

 ** _Michael it doesn't have to be this way. You can do some actual good!_**

"8…7…"

 ** _Michael, please!_** He couldn't help the pleading tone that overtook his words as his voice cracked. Dean hated to beg, hated to ask anything of this monster riding around in his skin.

"6…5…"

Dean growled, not only at Michael but at himself. If he didn't make a choice, both of them were going to die. But how did he pick? How _could_ he pick? One didn't deserve to live more than the other. Before Michael had been giving him easy choices.

Nothing about this was easy, but easi _er._

 ** _The one on the left._**

Michael smiled at his defeated answer, cruelty seeping from the curve of his lips as he walked over to the girl on the right and yanked her from the wall. He pulled out a blade from his waistband as her screams reverberated off the walls, every wail rattling his bones.

And then he began to slice.

….

"Rowena, you can pick one page." Sam reminded, one hand on the closed book before the witch could reach for it.

Her eyes narrowed. "Last I recall our deal was that I could pick three pages, _Samuel._ "

Sam's back straightened. "Yeah well, I decided to change the deal."

Rowena scoffed before she turned in her chair to stare at the table in the small diner a few feet from theirs. "I suppose you boys are here as some sort of back up?"

With their cover blown, Cas and Jack got up and joined their table, the two filling in the remaining two seats.

"Really, Samuel? Can't we handle this like two civilized adults?" She asked, her eyes drifting to the book before flicking back up to meet Sam's cautious gaze. "You promised me three."

"Rowena, if I give you one page, let alone three, Dean will hate me. He's gonna be pissed either way, but he'll swallow one page a hell of a lot quicker than he will three." Sam explained, his big brown puppy dog eyes focused on the witch before him.

Jack stiffened. He had seen Dean angry a few times since he had known him and none of them had been pleasant. He would hate to see how he'd be if, _when_ ¸ he found out what Sam was doing.

Then again, at least Sam was _doing_ something. Ever since Dean had gone missing, Jack had done nothing but sit around and wait for Cas or Sam to tell him what to do. Without his powers, he felt useless. He couldn't zap around to try to catch up to Michael, he couldn't heal anyone if they get hurt.

He couldn't do anything.

Rowena exhaled with exasperation, bringing Jack back to the conversation. "Winchesters, I swear. You can put those blasted things away." She said, gesturing to Sam's face. "One page, and I'll help you do the spell."

Sam managed a small smile as he slid his hand away, Jack and Cas bristling on opposite sides of the table. Even though the pair trusted Sam's judgement, they sure as hell weren't trusting Rowena.

Cas watched as Rowena carefully opened the book, her manicured finger roaming over the pages as she considered her options. After a few minutes, the sound of paper ripping moved the conversation forward.

With the grimoire safely back in Sam's bag, Cas cleared his throat. "What do we need for the spell?"

Sam tuned out Rowena, Jack and Cas discussing the different kind of ingredients as his phone dinged. Digging it from his pocket, he glanced down at the screen with drawn, disbelieving eyes. "Son of a bitch." He breathed, unlocking his phone in order to open up the notification.

Blue eyes quickly drew from Rowena to focus on Sam. "What is it?" Castiel asked, eyes searching for danger in Sam's face.

He shook his head, his lips curving in what could be seen as a smile. "When Dean first went missing, I turned on the GPS for his phone and set up notifications whenever his current credit card was used. Remember how we found his phone in that dressing room?" Castiel and Jack nodded. "I had given up hope on the cards, I mean, what would Michael need to buy? But I just got a hit."

Jack's brows drew together. "Where?"

"One state over, Pennsylvania."

…

"How do I know if it's working?"

There wasn't anybody else around, so Dean figured Michael must be talking to him. "If what's working?" He asked, even though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

"My plan. How do I know if the word is being spread?"

"Google it." Dean answered simply, his words dry and detached.

It had been a long few days. Michael was forcing Dean to make decisions left and right and it was becoming mentally taxing. Even though he wasn't in control, Dean's soul and mind could still feel the strain. So when Michael sighed almost in desperation, he could've sworn he imagined it.

"Before I cleansed my world, I was primarily in Heaven. I never went down to Earth, I didn't talk to any humans. I just came down, fought my brother, and then started making the world my own." He paused, taking a deep breath. "What does "google it" mean?"

Dean couldn't help the small laugh that slipped out. "After you went all Extreme Makeover on my ass, did you put my phone back in my pocket?"

Michael checked. "No."

Dean sighed. "What about my wallet? Did you keep that?"

He checked. "Yes." He said triumphantly, bringing the wallet out from his back pocket. He's not sure why he thought to keep it, but he was glad he did.

"Alright, guess we're goin' shopping." Dean answered, a slight feeling of hope buzzing in the back of his head.

…

 **TBC**

 **Ohhh man. The gangs finally got a clue! What do you think will happen? What do you _hope_ will happen? Let me know! Who knows, maybe your idea will be used in the next chapter. Remember, I thrive off of reviews and feedback! Thanks for continuing to read, following, favoriting, and reviewing. Y'all are the best. Till next chapter!**


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